


Happy Fucking New Year

by bry0psida



Series: 12 Days Of Harringrove [8]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Booty Calls, M/M, New Years, Rimming, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-04-21 08:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22059169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Steve ditches Heather to spend New Years with Billy.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: 12 Days Of Harringrove [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580533
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113





	Happy Fucking New Year

**Author's Note:**

> (Loose?) continuation of Hit Me Baby One More Time, as requested by Sky2Fall. Assume they had a meeting between last fic and this that I didn't want to write so the hint of familiarity makes sense.

“You’re not wearing that,” Says Heather from the bed, legs crossed in the air.

Steve turns. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Heather blows a bubble with her gum, lets it pop. “Too conservative. Show some skin.”

“It’s like, 2 degrees out.”

“If girls can go to the club in 4 inch heels and mini skirts in this weather, you can eat least wear a crop top or something. Maybe some low riding jeans.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips. “I’m not trying to get any, we’re just going for New Year’s drinks.”

Heather’s glare is icy. “If you’re gonna ditch me tonight for the Christmas party stripper I hired, it better be for sex.”

It is absolutely for sex. Heather will never let him hear the end of it if he admits that, though. “He has a name, you know.”

“Officer Goodbody, I remember. You better have cuff burns next time I see you.”

“Heather!”

Heather rolls her eyes, turns the page of her magazine with a licked finger. “Steve.”

Steve checks his outfit in the mirror again. It is pretty underwhelming. It’s also the fifth time he’s changed. Steve sighs in the most put upon manner he can muster. “If you’re gonna find a problem with everything I pick, you could at least be helpful and put something together.” The words are out of his mouth before he can really think about what he’s just said.

Heather scrambles off the bed, magazine flopping onto the floor. She practically climbs into Steve’s wardrobe, starts grabbing items and tossing them over her shoulder in the general direction of the bed.

…

Another five outfit changes later, Steve’s at the club waiting on Billy. Heather got a little…_creative_ with Steve’s wardrobe, threw together some truly horrific combinations. Steve settled on one of his weirder button-up shirts and his favourite pair of jeans. Heather hates it. Doesn’t matter, she’s not invited.

Billy’s late, Steve expected as much. Still, sucks shivering in the cold waiting on what they’re both pretending isn’t the prelude to a booty call.

Steve gets tired of waiting, shoots Billy a text telling him he’ll _be inside, too cold in the street_, and orders himself the first cocktail he sees on the chalkboard menu. The club is every bit as loud and obnoxious as Steve was hoping it wouldn’t be. Ah well. Enough booze and he won’t care.

Billy shows up about halfway through Steve’s tequila sunrise. He ghosts a finger up Steve’s back, making him shiver.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says, not looking sorry at all as he slides onto the stool next to Steve, shirt barely buttoned. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

It wasn’t. Steve got a Lyft here, always checks traffic before he gets in a car. Billy’s _fashionably late_ and they both know it. “No problem.” Steve says, brows raised as he sucks on the straw.

“You didn’t get me a drink?” Billy asks, eyes shining with mischief.

“Didn’t know what you’d like,”

“Wouldn’t hate a vodka and coke,” Steve orders him a vodka and coke, pays before Billy gets the chance. Billy quirks a brow, takes a sip. “You been here long?”

_Yes_. “Not long, no.”

“Thanks for slummin’ it with me,” Billy says, crossing one leg over the other, drawing Steve’s attention to how absurdly tight his jeans are. “My plans for tonight fell through.”

Steve might be offended that Billy’s making it clear he was second, maybe third choice for the night if he wasn’t here for anything but sex.

“Pleasure’s all mine,”

…

Billy gets a couple drinks in him, loosens him up with enough unnecessary touches to Steve’s wrist, his knee and neck to drag him onto the dance floor.

Steve’s not much of a dancer, there’s little room to show off anyway, not that that seems to be stopping Billy. He crowds right up against Steve, finds a way to work with the space. It’s mesmerising, the way he moves. It’s also fucking hot. Doesn’t take long at all before he’s sporting a semi. Billy feels it if the look he throws Steve over his shoulder is any indication. He backs his ass up and grinds a little more. The music is so loud Steve can feel the bass in his bones. He’s been a little reluctant to touch Billy up to this point but it’s clearly welcome, so he does. Steve cups Billy’s wrists midair, runs his fingers along the inside of his forearm, squeezes his biceps. Billy responds _very_ quickly to the touch, turns around faster than Steve can blink and plasters their fronts together. And yep, Billy’s rock fucking hard.

Steve’s glad it’s a gay club, they’re definitely not the only people grinding to an inappropriate degree on the dance floor. He gets two handfuls of Billy’s ass and squeezes. Billy responds by getting a hand full of Steve’s hair and yanking him down for a filthy kiss.

They swap spit for what feels like half an hour but is probably in reality closer to five minutes. Billy pulls away, breaks the string of saliva connecting their mouths when he rubs a thumb over Steve’s lower lip. “You uh, you wanna get out of here?”

Steve bites Billy’s thumb. “Fuck yeah.”

…

It’s a surprisingly short walk to Billy’s apartment. He’s in a nice building, as nice as the one Steve lives in. It’s tricky getting up the stairs without incident, Billy can’t keep his hands to himself and Steve doesn’t _want_ him to stop, so they pause every couple steps for a fondle then stumble their way some more.

There are multiple parties, which is a good thing, ‘cause Steve is _not_ quiet in bed, even worse when he’s drunk. If Billy’s half as good at sex as he is at dancing, Steve’s gonna scream till he loses his voice.

Billy pins Steve against the apartment door once it’s closed behind them, gets his hands on his hips and a tongue in his ear. Steve’s head knocks back against the door with a thud. “God, that’s good.”

Billy bites his earlobe. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes.

Billy keeps working at his ear, all hot breath and slick tongue. Steve didn’t even _know_ you could do shit to someone’s ear. He unbuttons Billy’s shirt the rest of the way, slips it off his shoulders, runs his palms down the expanse of Billy's soft, muscular back. Billy shudders under the touch. He’s very responsive to very little input. Steve lets the shirt drop to the floor, runs his hands back up Billy's spine, then drags his nails down. Billy moans in his ear, sudden and low. Steve feels Billy’s dick kick against his own through the layers of denim.

Steve turns his head a little, gets his lips against the shell of Billy’s ear, kisses it before whispering. “You're real sensitive, huh?”

“You have no idea,”

Steve takes that as a challenge. He bends down without warning, gets his hands round Billy’s thick thighs and lifts. Billy takes the hint and jumps, wraps his legs tight around Steve’s waist and starts sucking on his neck.

“Where’s- _christ_, where’s the bedroom?”

Billy pulls away his neck with an audible pop, “Down the hall, second door on the left.” then gets right back to it.

Steve carries him. It’s a considerable effort, he’s glad it’s such a short walk, he’d be more than a little embarrassed if he dropped Billy now. Steve throws him gently onto the bed. Billy bounces, mouth hanging open a little.

Steve gets to work on his belt. The clink of the buckle is loud in the quiet room. Billy's eyes drop to watch. “What do you wanna do?” Steve asks, heart pounding in anticipation.

Billy’s eyes are still on Steve’s crotch, tracing the shape of him through the jeans. “I want you to fuck me,” he says with a lick of his lips, “but I wanna suck you, first.”

_Fuck_. “Fuck,” Steve says. “Ok.” Billy shoots across the bed once he has permission, all but rips Steve’s belt from his jeans and starts tugging them down. “Hey, there’s no ru- oh my _god_, Billy.” Steve gasps as Billy slips him out through the fly in his boxers and starts tonguing the head of his cock, eyes wide and staring up at Steve.

Steve wants to get a hand in Billy’s hair, it twitches in the air above his head. Billy tilts his head to the side, hums his approval. Steve groans from the vibration, gets a handful of hair, pulls ever so lightly. Billy rewards him by sinking halfway down his cock. Steve jolts as he’s swallowed down.

Billy sucks dick like a god damn pro. He hardly stops to breathe, just makes his way up, down and back again. The breaks between vigorous sucking, deep throating and tongue kissing while he jacks Steve seems to be more for Steve’s benefit than Billy’s, he nearly blows his load more than once.

Billy gives him a final kiss to the frenulum before pulling away to toe off his shoes. Steve does the same, slips off his shirt without unbuttoning it, gets his jeans and boxers off the rest of the way.

Steve peels Billy out of his own, eyes tracking the reveal of tanned skin and strong legs. Nothing Steve hasn’t seen before. Doesn’t make it any less exciting. Billy points his toes as Steve eases the tight ankles over his feet. He even has pretty feet. That’s not a thing Steve’s usually into.

Billy rolls onto his front, spreads his knees on the bed. Steve makes an embarrassing noise high in his throat when he sees Billy’s wearing a god damn jockstrap, all that sweet ass on display.

“Did you shower?” He asks, voice unrecognisable.

Billy’s is pretty rough, too. “Yeah.”

Steve climbs onto the bed, spreads Billy’s cheeks. _Fuck_, he even shaved. It’s all smooth as hell, his hole is the prettiest shade of pink Steve’s ever seen. “Can I eat you out?”

Billy moans a ragged please into the pillow beneath him. Well then.

Steve lowers himself onto his front, folds his legs in the air behind him. Once he’s flat on his stomach he spreads Billy’s cheeks again, flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe across his hole, watches it flutter and clench in response.

“Fuck, Steve, _fuck_.” Steve does it again, and again, and again. Lets the swipe of his tongue become more intentional and focused with each drag, narrowing the target from Billy’s whole crack to just his hole. Steve kisses it once, twice, then starts tonguing it real slow and sweet. The change in pace has Billy gasping and pushing back into Steve’s face, then squirming away. Steve buries his face in Billy’s ass, gets his hands on his hips to try hold him still, then really goes to town.

The sounds Billy makes are something else. They’re not pornographic or performative. They sound more like Billy’s surprised at how good it feels. He’s twitching and flinching something fierce when Steve finally slips his tongue inside. Billy’s hand smacks onto the bedside table with a shout, Steve hears something rattle and clatter to the floor.

A drawer opens, Billy’s wriggling away now. Steve wipes the spit off his chin with the back of his hand, sits up, feels his cock bob. Billy flips over, cheeks flushed. “Holy fuck, Steve. You’re good at that.”

Steve knows he is, still nice to hear it, though. “Thanks.” Billy huffs a light laugh, passes him a clear bottle of lube and a condom. “You want any prep?”

“Usually I’d say no, but after that I’ve gotta see how you finger.”

Steve’s more than happy to oblige. He uncaps the bottle, squeezes more than enough onto his fingers, rubs them together. He settles on his knees between Billy’s legs, ghosts a slick finger along his crack.

Billy’s head drops against his pillow with a sigh. He simultaneously looks incredibly relaxed and wound tight as hell. It’s a rush knowing _Steve_ is the one to do that to him. This is actually his favorite part. Steve’s a fucking tease, loves winding someone up till they’re _begging_ for him to fuck them. He doesn’t think it’ll take much more with Billy.

Steve starts by tracing slow circles over Billy’s hole with the tip of his finger, hardly touching him at all. He increases the pressure with each subsequent circle till the muscle gives under the pressure and his finger slips in. Steve works the first knuckle in once, twice, three times, then eases down to the second. Billy seems like the kind of person who’s getting fucked on the reg and yet he’s tight as hell. Steve’s not gonna last long at all.

Billy takes the first finger down to the base like a champ, keeps angling his hips up for more. Two is a bit more of a stretch but he doesn’t complain, just keeps up with his whispered litany of _fuck steve, fuck_. He loses his god damn mind when Steve brushes his prostate. Steve hears more than sees Billy’s dick twitch and slap back against his stomach, back arching like a bowstring.

Very sensitive indeed. Steve crooks his fingers and taps it, rubs it, outright massages it. Billy is a mess. He’s flushed all the way down his chest and glistening with sweat. He looks fucking incredible.

Steve eases up, slips in a third. Billy grabs him by the wrist and yanks his fingers out. “If you don’t get your dick inside me in the next thirty seconds Steve…”

Steve is painfully hard. He likes that, though. Making himself wait. He hisses as he rolls on the condom, does it again when he slicks himself up with a little extra lube. “How do you want it?”

Billy gets his hands behind his knees, practically folds himself in half. “Like this.”

Steve nearly blows his load from the display alone. Doesn’t, thankfully. He shuffles forward on the bed, eyes on Billy as he slides in.

It’s good, it’s always good, but this is something else. Billy’s mouth drops open round a moan, his brow furrows, his eyes flutter shut. He’s the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen.

It’s a slow process, pushing in all the way. Billy might be the tightest person Steve’s ever fucked. He’s panting from the initial breach alone, can hardly get enough air in his lungs. Billy sounds equally overwhelmed.

“‘M not gonna last long,” Steve grits out.

Billy laughs a little, punching a sound out of Steve when it causes him to clench. “Good, me neither.”

Steve takes a few slow breaths to calm himself, then starts moving. Billy grips him tight on the out stroke, even tighter when he pushes back in, squeezes Steve’s dick in all the right ways.

“You’re so- so _tight_, Billy. Holy shit.”

Billy grins up at him something wicked and _clenches_. Steve drops onto his ams, elbows either side of Billy’s head, overwhelmed, hips pumping.

Billy’s moving more than Steve is. Writhing underneath him, canting his hips down to meet Steve halfway on every thrust, legs wrapped tight around Steve’s waist.

Steve can feel the telltale clenching of muscles, knows he’s gonna be gone any minute, pushes himself up on one arm, gets the other hand on Billy’s dick, starts jerking him somewhat in time with his thrusts.

Billy shouts, rakes his sharp nails down Steve’s back, pulls Steve deeper and deeper inside him, feet pressing against Steve’s ass. Steve swipes his thumb over Billy’s head a couple times and he’s gone, starts shooting all over his own chest, clenching around Steve like a fucking vice.

Steve feels himself swell, throb, then comes. It’s the shortest but most intense orgasm he’s ever had, feels like he’s been hit by a train once it’s over. He collapses on top of Billy again, heart jackhammering in his chest. Billy doesn’t seem to mind if the kiss Steve gets to his temple and the smack on his ass is any indication.

“Holy shit,” Billy pants.

“Yeah,” Steve replies.

They lie like that for a little while, slick with sweat and cum and enveloped in the afterglow.

Billy taps Steve on the ribs, whispers a quiet little _hey_. Steve turns his head on Billy’s shoulder, looks up at him.

“Happy fucking New Year,” Billy whispers around a sly grin.

Steve returns it, buries his own smile in Billy’s warm neck. “Happy fucking New Year.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my best smut. Practice makes perfect.
> 
> Struggled with what I wanted the dynamic to be here, but it made sense to me Steve would go in expecting something to different to what he got considering this is the first time they sleep together in this au.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, make my (new) year with a comment??


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